In Darkness
by S. A. Ryan
Summary: In her darkest moment, alone, Sheila must decide her own fate, but does she have the strength to do what she must?


_Disclaimer: The original characters, and setting from the Dungeons and Dragons series are solely the property of Marvel, TSR, and their legal successors; and are used without permission, or any form of compensation. In no way is ownership of those expressed or implied. Other completely original materials are property of S.A. Ryan, except as noted. This was originally published at Sealgirl's Virtual Realm. It was written as a piece for Sealgirl's Christmas 2007 Challenge at Helix Town Square._

**In Darkness**

"_Though my soul may set in darkness, _

_it will rise in perfect light. _

_I have loved the stars too fondly,_

_to be fearful of the night."_

_The Old Astronomer to His Pupil__. Sarah Williams, 1837-1868_

_

* * *

  
_

The stonework was cool against her back, even though the Cloak. Her heart was pounding. She forced the breath out of her lungs, pushing up against the wall as they passed.

One of the guards was so close to her as he passed by that she could see the dark stubble on his cheeks. A fraction of an inch closer, and he would have brushed up against her. If he actually touched her, not even the Cloak would have been able to conceal her presence.

She began to feel weak, her vision swam, but she forced herself not to gulp in air. She breathed in ever so slowly, filled her lungs, and then exhaled again, without making a sound.

Same as ever, they followed the same route that she had observed over the last few nights. They would unlock the door to the vaults, and join the other guards below for a quick drink. The guards were constantly on watch, but thanks to Dungeon Master's gift of her Cloak, they were no obstacle. She simply followed them in, careful to avoid being touched.

_Men, especially guards who like to drink on duty, are so predictable._

She descended the stairs quickly, down into the storage vaults.

She slipped over to an unused corner of the room, and waited until they were too busy drinking and socializing to be milling around. There was less chance of being bumped into, of being discovered, if they weren't moving about. Finally, they did what she had hoped for. They called their friends guarding the passageway to the main vault to join them.

She pulled a small vial from her belt, and emptied the contents into the open barrel, after the last one drew his first drink. After their second drink, they would wake up in a few hours with a hangover five times worse than what they expected, and she would be gone with her prize. She didn't have to drug them. She could have simply eluded them completely, and they would have never known she had been there until they came looking for the Keystone. She wanted them to know, to be witnesses to her triumph, and to their own incompetence.

_The fools._

They were all drinking and laughing noisily when she finally slipped out of the guardroom.

The chambers containing valuable property were sealed, and only the seneschal had the keys, but she didn't need one. She looked at the imposing, impenetrable, iron door and allowed a satisfied smile. _It wasn't protected by magic!_

She held her breath for a moment, concentrated, and then stepped through the locked door as if it was nothing more than empty air. When she used the Cloak in this way, to _voluntarily_ pass through objects, the sensation was always excruciatingly uncomfortable. The ability only lasted a few seconds, and was seldom worth using. It drained her strength, and the warmth from her body, as if someone had immersed her in icy water in the middle of an arctic winter. It erased the world from her consciousness. It left her helpless, and sapped her will. It took away everything: all of the distractions, and let her remember.

She shivered involuntarily, lowering herself to the floor. It would be several minutes before she could move again. Her thoughts began to wander back over her friends, even as she tried to push them away. She didn't want to think about them. She was finally doing something for herself.

All of her life, she had always been told what to do. She was the good girl, the loving daughter, the perfect sister: sweet little Sheila, the one who always sacrificed for everyone else. What had it gotten her?

Anger boiled up to the surface again, and she tried to force it down, to recover to calm she needed to finish her plans. She could indulge her feelings later, when it was safe.

_This isn't the time or place to think about it._

She had always taken care of her brother. She had always put him first, before herself and what she wanted. She wanted Hank, but as always, she put Bobby first. Now, it was too late. A week ago, she had confirmed her doubts.

She had caught Hank and Diana together. Her boyfriend and her best friend had been cheating on her. In the deepest, darkest part of her soul, she had suspected for a long time, but she never wanted to admit it to herself. There had been too many glances at the other, too many smiles.

Eric, who had always been fond of Diana, was just sarcastic. There wasn't another reason for his hostility toward Hank. There was. He was jealous. He _knew_, and he had never said a word.

There had been dozens of warning signs, but Sheila had blithely ignored them all.

When Sheila had finally found out, something happened. She couldn't bring herself to cry. She wanted protest their betrayal, but she refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her hurt and vulnerable. At first, she was just numb. She couldn't feel anything anymore. It was as if her feelings had suddenly evaporated. Only one thing was left.

Now she could recognize it, but then it had been something alien to her experience. She had been angry before, but now she found that she had a hardened core of anger and resentment that wouldn't leave her. She nursed it as if it were a child, and it eagerly consumed everything until it hollowed her out.

It was hate.

For the first time in her life, she let herself hate, and now she couldn't think of Hank or Diana without a cold rage.

Before that day, Sheila had told herself that she had always been wrong to doubt them. That having feelings of jealousy were wrong, that she was better than that. Diana had been her best friend since grade school and would never do something so demeaning, so hurtful. Sheila had reminded herself that Hank loved her with all his heart, and _nothing_ - not even this hell of a world - would ever come between them.

Instead, it had only taken her little brother.

Nothing would ever repair the rift between them now. She had blamed Bobby for her failure, because she had placed him above herself. Because of her selflessness, because of him, Hank had abandoned her. When Bobby had argued back in his defense, she had _slapped_ him.

She didn't mean to. She didn't realize she had even done it, until he was crying. She didn't slap him very hard, but that was no excuse! _Not ever. _ She had slapped her little brother in a fit of anger! She had hurt the only person in this world whose love for her was complete and unconditional.

The normally reserved Presto had protested what she had done. He had stepped between them, fully ready to face her wrath.

_He was always so timid. He was so weak, compared to someone like Hank, or even Eric, but in the end, he was the only _decent_ one. _

Presto had shielded her little brother...from her.

The look of shock on Bobby's face, and the tears in his eyes haunted her day and night. The guilt wasn't the worst of it. Bobby didn't understand why she was angry. He was too young to understand what had really happened. Hank was his 'big brother', guiding him, advising him in all things that only men understood. Diana was his friend. Bobby, who always depended on Sheila, had loved her, fled straight into the arms of the only other people he knew. He ran to Hank and Diana for solace.

Seeing _Diana _gently dry Bobby's tears, as he glared... It was too much for her.

She fled then, vanishing as she pulled up her hood. She never looked back. There was nothing and no one left for her there. Sheila had been betrayed, and then she herself had destroyed all that she had ever loved.

_This is no time to wallow in the past. Get on with it!_

She forced herself to her feet, shaking off the last of the effects.

She was doing something she never dared. She wanted the rush of adrenaline, the danger, and now the thrill of success. There was another sensation, one that wouldn't let her go. She had something she had desperately longed for, but would have never admitted to feeling, to _wanting_. At last, she had shed the restraints of her life. The heavy burden of responsibility vanished from her shoulders.

It made her heart beat faster, and her entire body trembled with excitement.

She realized she could refashion herself. She could shed her past, discard "Sheila" like a worn out garment, and become someone else, someone new. She could act on her feelings, rather than suppressing them or setting them aside for someone else's benefit. She wouldn't be bound by the expectations of Sheila's parents, the judgments of Sheila's friends, or the need to look after Sheila's little brother.

This world, and the Cloak had given her the power. The power to go _where_ she wanted, to _take_ what she wanted, to _be_ who she wanted. She could be herself. She could _finally_ be free. The idea, the thrill...it was intoxicating, seductive. It was _sensual_.

_She_ could do all the things Sheila _never_ would have. She could take that first step. All she had to do was let go – let go of all of it: Sheila's morals, Sheila's responsibilities, Sheila's pain, Sheila's regrets, and Sheila's heartache. They didn't have to be hers.

All she had to do was _take _what she came here for.

_I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be here. This is wrong. Stealing is wrong._

She viciously pushed the voice away. She had already made her decision, and that voice was just a whisper now. Sheila tried in vain to dissuade her. It was already too late. Sheila would cease to exist here, now, and she _would_ be reborn. She could be totally free, living her life moment to moment, at last having her own desires without regret.

_Bobby. Bobby loves you._

_No, he doesn't! He hates you. You hurt him. I saw the look on his face._

_Yes, I did. It was wrong, and maybe I'll never be able to make it right, but he's just a little boy. I hurt him, and he ran to the only people he could. He doesn't know any better. He doesn't understand what Hank and Diana did to me. So you'll just leave him, abandon him. You coward! He shouldn't suffer for your mistakes._

_He won't. They will take care of him. I can be free. All I have to do is let go. What are you so afraid of? Beside the pain, there is nothing left._

_So just let go of it all? My friends, my life, my dreams? _

_What friends? They betrayed you. What life? You always gave up everything for a little brother, and everyone else. You never had anything for yourself. What dreams? Being Suzie Homemaker? The dream is over. The man who held your hand, who looked you in the eye and said he loved you is sleeping with your _best_ friend. You can never trust them again. So let them go._

_So let go of my love for my little brother too?_

_Why not? He doesn't care._

_You know that's not true._

She paused. _He'll never forgive me._

_You know him better than that. It will take time, but what you did isn't unforgivable._

_I hit Bobby! If I did it once, I could hurt him again._

_It is possible. It's possible he could hurt you someday. You slapped him. You didn't mean to. But if you run away, he will never know why it was wrong, and he might make the same mistake. He will never know, and that will be your fault. You slapped him because you were angry, because you blamed him. But that isn't really why is it?_

_No, _she said in a small voice.

_It's because you let yourself hate. You have to let it go. Hatred isn't a part of who we are._

_I can't!_

_Now who is afraid? If you want a new life so badly, that you want to let go of all of it, you'll never be free until you let go of hate._

_I can't, and even if I could, I can't go back. I WON'T be the center of pity or snide looks: Hank's jilted ex-girlfriend._

_So don't be. Be Bobby's sister. No one can take that away from you. There is one thing that will never change, no matter how much you change yourself, no matter how far you run. No matter what happens, Bobby is your brother. You love him. Everything you've ever given up, you did it because you love him. You need him to be your brother. Without him, I'm incomplete, and so are you. Be Bobby's sister. It's enough. He's always been reason enough, for everything. He's worth it, all of it. _

_Yes... Everything... Even my life._

_So what's worth more to you: a new life of freedom, or Bobby's love?_

She left the castle grounds, and turned north. If she was lucky, she would be able to find them in a few days. A part of her did die in that vault. She smiled, but the smile was bittersweet.

She did look back, only once regretting what must be. She knew she had made the right choice. Sheila smiled, because her brother was out there. She smiled, because in spite of everything that had happened, everything she had done, a new life still wasn't worth more than her soul.


End file.
